~BBW, Historical Fiction--Ancient Greece ~SWG - A mighty Spartan prince is thrown off balance when he finds himself attracted to his plump, promised foreign bride as she does not fit the typical Spartan athletic physique
The resistance to the idea was great but eventually, after hearing the judgment of the Oracle, all agreed that this arrangement was both necessary and divinely-inspired. That offered me little comfort as I boarded the vessel that would carry away from my familiar coastal home to some strange and distant place.
The entire voyage forced me to search my own soul and try to remember that I was no longer a Megarian, but soon would become a Spartan and though I had been told what to expect, deep down I was frightened. In Megara I wasn't expected to do too much outside of the home, but I had heard about the aggressive nature and the athletic abilities of their women.
As I sat in my carrier, I cradled my protruding midsection in my hands and whimpered--there was no telling what these people would do to me. These were a fighting people, they preferred their isolation and physical prowess, whereas I was a thinker, built to remain close to a hearth and not exert myself. Since Megara was a port city-state, the wealth frequently poured in and my family, as other nobles, reaped the benefits; therefore I had spent my life indulging my appetites, whatever they were, but never to excess.
I was within the walls of Sparta now and as I thought about my past existence, I swallowed hard because I contrasted so much from these people. I peered through the scarlet veil of my carrier and saw women, strong and proud alongside their sculpted men and I felt my heart sink. I was pale and though the rest of me was thin, my belly absorbed what I consumed. These women stood a foot taller than me, all of them and the look of confidence in their eyes was something I had never seen before.
Who are these people? Why don't they look downcast when they meet each other? I was always taught to not look a man in the eye without permission first and slaves were expected to never attempt to glance upward. I had been allowed only the four male slaves that now carried me toward my new home and something told me that they would be removed from me quickly after.
All of this brought tears to my eyes and I longed for something to eat but dared not ask the carrier to be stopped for fear that I would draw more attention to myself--there was plenty of time for that later.
Soon I would meet my husband, the reason why I had traveled this long way, the reason why I was being torn from family and friends alike. But this was for the good of the alliance between Sparta and Megara, secured with a bloodline that would pass through me.
I had heard many stories about my new husband, that he was a revered physical specimen, a mighty military leader, of noble blood...what they tell every girl that is passed off for such a politically-based marriage. Yet as I pondered all of this, my carrier came to an abrupt halt and suddenly I felt myself being lowered. I clung to the wooden sides as I tried to steady myself inside while maintaining my heartbeat.
Everything outside of the carrier was quiet apart from the sound of my slaves retreating with great haste. I again clutched my belly, a habit I had developed, but it always seemed to steady my nerves, which was necessary as the silence was broken by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching me. I could tell that these were men, many men and they were coming at all sides so that I was surrounded.
I told myself not to cry, to not let down my Megarian heritage but I was beyond frightened. What if these Spartans were cannibals? I gulped then because my corpulent belly was enough for one of these barbaric men to feast upon. I tried sucking in my belly but that hurt and soon I released it, so that it filled out my tunic again, until it appeared that I was trying to smuggle something inside the city.
For the first time I regretted the delicacies I had taken the liberty to enjoy all these years. But then the footsteps stopped and even though I had broken out in a sweat, I felt relieved and thought maybe my slaves would resume carrying me. I was wrong of course.
One pair of footsteps moved forward and the most sinister sound entered my ears as I heard distinctly a sword being unsheathed. I closed my eyes and prayed to the gods that it was all a dream and I would awaken in my own bed, safe in my father's house. But that didn't stop the sword from coming forward and parting the veil that separated me from these beastly people.
When I opened my eyes I saw another pair staring back into mine. Green eyes that bore into me that sat in a stern face--something told me that this man, with those eyes and that sword had killed countless people. There was nothing kind in his expression, indeed he seemed disgusted by what he saw before him and I wanted to shrink away from him. It wasn't until I felt the wooden beam of the carrier did I realize that I had actually backed a few inches away from him.
He leaned forward a little until he was kneeling slightly and with the point of his sword, he dared to prod me with the tip, directly into my belly! I bit my lip for though he didn't cut me, it was the most humiliating experience I had ever endured. By his expression I can guess that he was trying to determine if my tunic was padded somehow or if it all of it was me under there. I felt a bubble of nausea rise then but I fought it back down until he withdrew his sword and sheaved it.
"Your name, child! What is your name?" he asked his voice strong and gruff, like the hair on his face.
"Ga-Gaiana, daughter of Agathon of Me-Megara." I stammered, pressing deeper into the beam.
My voice sounded so small and weak that I barely recognized it as my own.
The man narrowed his eyes at me, again seemingly repulsed by me even though I hadn't done anything. But then I realized that he was recognizing me though we had never met.
"M-My lord?" I asked, before biting my lip.
He didn't answer, but rose to his feet and turned away from me so that I could only see the backs of his powerful calve muscles and sandaled feet. He bellowed orders to his men though I didn't pay that much attention to his words at first, for I was trying to recover from the strange and intrusive encounter. However when I heard his last command, I felt a shiver so deep and clear trace my spine that I cried out.
"Have my wife brought to my bedchamber and prepared for this evening's festivities. I want her well rested before the banquet, for she has traveled many days to our city."
The tears that fell from my eyes then could not be stopped, no matter how much I wished them to. I felt heavy or at least heavier than usual and I again grasp by belly and tried to halt its churning. Soon my slaves returned and I was hoisted back onto their shoulders and being carried away so I could not see the man anymore. I wanted to scream but my voice failed me. Probably because I had just met my husband...Prince Pantheras of Sparta.
(to be continued)
Melting the Spartan
by Petite09
by Petite09
The resistance to the idea was great but eventually, after hearing the judgment of the Oracle, all agreed that this arrangement was both necessary and divinely-inspired. That offered me little comfort as I boarded the vessel that would carry away from my familiar coastal home to some strange and distant place.
The entire voyage forced me to search my own soul and try to remember that I was no longer a Megarian, but soon would become a Spartan and though I had been told what to expect, deep down I was frightened. In Megara I wasn't expected to do too much outside of the home, but I had heard about the aggressive nature and the athletic abilities of their women.
As I sat in my carrier, I cradled my protruding midsection in my hands and whimpered--there was no telling what these people would do to me. These were a fighting people, they preferred their isolation and physical prowess, whereas I was a thinker, built to remain close to a hearth and not exert myself. Since Megara was a port city-state, the wealth frequently poured in and my family, as other nobles, reaped the benefits; therefore I had spent my life indulging my appetites, whatever they were, but never to excess.
I was within the walls of Sparta now and as I thought about my past existence, I swallowed hard because I contrasted so much from these people. I peered through the scarlet veil of my carrier and saw women, strong and proud alongside their sculpted men and I felt my heart sink. I was pale and though the rest of me was thin, my belly absorbed what I consumed. These women stood a foot taller than me, all of them and the look of confidence in their eyes was something I had never seen before.
Who are these people? Why don't they look downcast when they meet each other? I was always taught to not look a man in the eye without permission first and slaves were expected to never attempt to glance upward. I had been allowed only the four male slaves that now carried me toward my new home and something told me that they would be removed from me quickly after.
All of this brought tears to my eyes and I longed for something to eat but dared not ask the carrier to be stopped for fear that I would draw more attention to myself--there was plenty of time for that later.
Soon I would meet my husband, the reason why I had traveled this long way, the reason why I was being torn from family and friends alike. But this was for the good of the alliance between Sparta and Megara, secured with a bloodline that would pass through me.
I had heard many stories about my new husband, that he was a revered physical specimen, a mighty military leader, of noble blood...what they tell every girl that is passed off for such a politically-based marriage. Yet as I pondered all of this, my carrier came to an abrupt halt and suddenly I felt myself being lowered. I clung to the wooden sides as I tried to steady myself inside while maintaining my heartbeat.
Everything outside of the carrier was quiet apart from the sound of my slaves retreating with great haste. I again clutched my belly, a habit I had developed, but it always seemed to steady my nerves, which was necessary as the silence was broken by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching me. I could tell that these were men, many men and they were coming at all sides so that I was surrounded.
I told myself not to cry, to not let down my Megarian heritage but I was beyond frightened. What if these Spartans were cannibals? I gulped then because my corpulent belly was enough for one of these barbaric men to feast upon. I tried sucking in my belly but that hurt and soon I released it, so that it filled out my tunic again, until it appeared that I was trying to smuggle something inside the city.
For the first time I regretted the delicacies I had taken the liberty to enjoy all these years. But then the footsteps stopped and even though I had broken out in a sweat, I felt relieved and thought maybe my slaves would resume carrying me. I was wrong of course.
One pair of footsteps moved forward and the most sinister sound entered my ears as I heard distinctly a sword being unsheathed. I closed my eyes and prayed to the gods that it was all a dream and I would awaken in my own bed, safe in my father's house. But that didn't stop the sword from coming forward and parting the veil that separated me from these beastly people.
When I opened my eyes I saw another pair staring back into mine. Green eyes that bore into me that sat in a stern face--something told me that this man, with those eyes and that sword had killed countless people. There was nothing kind in his expression, indeed he seemed disgusted by what he saw before him and I wanted to shrink away from him. It wasn't until I felt the wooden beam of the carrier did I realize that I had actually backed a few inches away from him.
He leaned forward a little until he was kneeling slightly and with the point of his sword, he dared to prod me with the tip, directly into my belly! I bit my lip for though he didn't cut me, it was the most humiliating experience I had ever endured. By his expression I can guess that he was trying to determine if my tunic was padded somehow or if it all of it was me under there. I felt a bubble of nausea rise then but I fought it back down until he withdrew his sword and sheaved it.
"Your name, child! What is your name?" he asked his voice strong and gruff, like the hair on his face.
"Ga-Gaiana, daughter of Agathon of Me-Megara." I stammered, pressing deeper into the beam.
My voice sounded so small and weak that I barely recognized it as my own.
The man narrowed his eyes at me, again seemingly repulsed by me even though I hadn't done anything. But then I realized that he was recognizing me though we had never met.
"M-My lord?" I asked, before biting my lip.
He didn't answer, but rose to his feet and turned away from me so that I could only see the backs of his powerful calve muscles and sandaled feet. He bellowed orders to his men though I didn't pay that much attention to his words at first, for I was trying to recover from the strange and intrusive encounter. However when I heard his last command, I felt a shiver so deep and clear trace my spine that I cried out.
"Have my wife brought to my bedchamber and prepared for this evening's festivities. I want her well rested before the banquet, for she has traveled many days to our city."
The tears that fell from my eyes then could not be stopped, no matter how much I wished them to. I felt heavy or at least heavier than usual and I again grasp by belly and tried to halt its churning. Soon my slaves returned and I was hoisted back onto their shoulders and being carried away so I could not see the man anymore. I wanted to scream but my voice failed me. Probably because I had just met my husband...Prince Pantheras of Sparta.
(to be continued)
